The Qi Arts Master 2.
It was a landscape that could pass for the Peach Blossom Paradise, if such a place existed. Not grand in scale, but a waterfall blended seamlessly with its surroundings, and at the center of the lake below stood two stones large enough for a man to sit comfortably. Smooth, curving rocks encircled the water, lending an artificial yet utterly natural air. To the right of the falls and lake rose a thick cluster of trees; to the left squatted a thatched cottage of yellow earth and timber. Spring had arrived, blanketing the house in blooming flowers that wove a serene beauty.
“Grandfather!”
With a youthful face and soft black hair falling to his shoulders, the balanced figure of fifteen-year-old Tian Ailang called out, brimming with delight.
Tian Danho, who had been splitting firewood in the front yard of the cottage, gazed fondly at his urgently calling grandson.
“Ailang, what is it?”
“I felt the qi of the earth!”
“The qi of the earth?!”
Tian Danho's face registered shock at his grandson's words.
“Yes! Lately my training's been sluggish, so I was walking the mountain paths, lost in thought. Then I noticed the energy clumped beneath my feet, different from usual—like I could see it.”
“And...?”
“Well, I got curious and touched it with my hand, but nothing happened. Frustrated, I released some internal energy from my soles—and the rock in front of me, big as a kid's torso, just exploded. Isn't this what you described, Grandfather?”
“Heh heh.”
A genius, perhaps.
Tian Danho marveled inwardly at Tian Ailang's talent. The realm of sensing great nature's qi was one even Tian Seoksan—hailed as a once-in-a-generation prodigy in the clan—had barely glimpsed after passing thirty. No matter the aid of formations, stepping into it at fifteen was extraordinary.
Ailang...
The more his grandson's genius shone, the more bitter the taste in Tian Danho's mouth. Had the clan survived intact, Tian Ailang would have led its revival amid the full love and support of his kin. Still, knowing the boy had begun sensing great nature's energy eased his heart somewhat. Lately, his own weakening body had filled his days with worry.
Swallowing such concerns, Tian Danho said, “Impressive. Come, sit here a moment. It's time I told you about the clan.”
At his grandfather's feeble gesture, Tian Ailang scampered over and perched on the porch edge. Tian Danho lightly stroked the boy's head.
“Our clan holds that nature is the world. People, beasts, stones, trees—all are one with it, undivided. We began as a gathering of those who yearned to emulate nature, to hold it within themselves.”
Tian Ailang lit up; his grandfather rarely broached clan lore.
He fixed expectant eyes on those lips alone.
Tian Danho smiled faintly at the sight.
“Internal energy is qi drawn from nature, breathed in artificially and stored in the body. The early murim folk were mostly daoists. They turned their bodies into conduits for qi, seeking health and longevity. They drew great nature's qi inward to purify their meridians. In time, some learned to gather it in the dantian for use—that's the murim we know today.”
“Wow...”
Tian Danho stroked his grandson's head once more at the pure reaction.
“Our founding patriarch saw the dantian not as the sole vessel for internal energy, but wondered if the entire body could serve as one. From then, he ceased building qi and meditated amid great nature. A year passed, then five, then ten—until he began sensing each distinct energy within it. The earth had its qi, water its own, and so on. He named them the qi of great nature.”
His throat parched from so much talk, Tian Danho ladled a sip from the rainwater barrel by the porch.
“Ah... But as he truly began sensing great nature's qi, he nearly lost himself within its vastness. Like a river flowing to the sea, his lesser qi yearned to merge naturally with the immense. He endured five more years of meditation before existing freely amid it. Only then was he unbound even by formations.”
“Formations? You mean the ones that delude people?”
Tian Danho nodded.
“Precisely. Formations warp qi flow artificially, so perceiving great nature's qi naturally renders them mere winding paths. He advanced further, able to command the energies around him—manipulating objects at will or triggering blasts at points in the air.”
“Grandfather, couldn't other murim folk do that too?”
“They can ape vacuum grasps or qi arts, sure. But it demands immense internal energy and strain—not easy. They deem it inefficient, preferring other pursuits. We Qi Arts Masters, with our superior efficiency and creativity, pursue a fundamentally different path.”
“Ah... So what I felt today marks entry into sensing great nature's qi?”
“Heh heh, so eager. You've merely dipped a toe past the threshold. Earth's qi is the start; water's next, and eventually you'll find it even in the air, the winds. Their individual grains will reveal themselves. Since you've grasped earth's, the rest will flow naturally—no need to fret.”
“What a relief. I felt so lost.”
Tian Ailang shifted to face his grandfather more fully.
“Tell me more about the founding patriarch.”
Tian Danho had always withheld clan tales from Tian Ailang, teaching only the bare essentials for training. Recalling the clan's annihilation stirred guilt and grief beyond enduring. But with death's shadow looming, he felt the urgency to impart all of the Qi Arts Clan before it was too late. His grandson's breakthrough today only strengthened that resolve.
“Very well... The founding patriarch later divided his realm into stages and taught them to the clan warriors. We follow that system to this day. Qi Arts Stage 1 is entry: sensing qi to build internal energy. Stage 2: wielding that accumulated qi. Nothing different from ordinary murim thus far. Stage 3: sensing great nature's qi—the threshold you've just crossed.”
“Ah...”
“Stage 4: existing naturally amid infinite great nature's qi. Stage 5: communing with it at will, internal energy inexhaustible, domain under your sway. Stage 6: commanding even foes' qi. Stage 7: nature itself responding to the practitioner's will. So it was divided.”
“Incredible. Did the founder reach Stage 7 and ascend as an immortal?”
“He stood at the cusp of Stage 6. Just before passing, he glimpsed Stage 7 and left it as his final words. Later generations formalized the full seven stages from that. We even devised ways to mitigate Stage 4's risk of self-loss.”
“How?”
“Through formations. Your father crossed Stage 4 swiftly that way—the first since the founder to attain Stage 6.”
“Wow... Father? That's amazing. How long did it take him from Stage 3 to 4?”
Tian Ailang had often heard his grandfather compare feats to his father's, only for sorrow to cut it short. Today, with questions flowing freely, he seized the chance to slake long-held curiosities.
“Eight years.”
“Eight years...”
In that instant, a new goal ignited in Tian Ailang.
And as if resolved, Tian Danho recounted the clan's full history. How every soul had adored Tian Ailang. How his name enshrined his late mother's, a reminder of their love. The Demonic Cult's invasion. The annihilation.
He conveyed it all calmly—what he'd withheld before. Revelations filled Tian Ailang, yet pieced together from glimpses of his grandfather's grief, he absorbed them steadily. Still, love for those lost kin and fury at the Demonic Cult burned deep. He buried it all in his heart's depths.
* * *
Five years flashed by like an arrow. Tian Ailang, now twenty, had pierced Qi Arts Stage 4 with Tian Danho's aid.
The formation for Stage 4 practice condensed great nature's qi to extremes, sealing it perfectly from the outside world. Isolated those five years, Tian Ailang poured all into finding and holding his self amid the qi—and succeeded in record time.
Emerging, he sought Tian Danho first. But five years had ravaged the old man; he seemed ancient, his health dire.
Having passed Stage 4, Tian Ailang now sensed ambient energies effortlessly. Thus he instantly perceived his grandfather's qi as faint, erratic. The decline outpaced natural aging—unnaturally swift.
He pressed until answers came. An untreated wound from the Demonic Cult sapping his vitality. Erecting their dwelling's formation had burned his last vestiges of healable energy. The Stage 4 array had consumed what little remained to stave off frailty.
Tian Ailang knew then: little time left with his grandfather.
From that day, he forwent training to stay ever at the old man's side.
Summer's green scents yielded to autumn's high skies and turning leaves. Grandson and grandfather sat on the cottage porch, watching the seasons' shift day by day.
“Ailang.”
Tian Ailang felt finality in the call. Fearing a chill wind for the frail form, he regulated the air around them with his energy.
Yet life force ebbed relentlessly.
“Yes, Grandfather.”
Tears threatened, but he answered steadily.
“Look—your father and mother waving from afar.”
“Grandfather...”
“The whole clan, smiling.”
“...”
Tian Danho stared into the distance with dimming eyes. Then faint vigor returned to them. He turned to Tian Ailang.
“Ailang. At first, I hoped you'd rebuild the Qi Arts Clan. Avenge Tian Seoksan and our kin on the Heavenly Demon and Demonic Cult. Your gifts made it seem possible. But... our time together rendered such hopes futile. Keuk!”
“Grandfather!”
Blood flecked the cough; Tian Ailang lunged to carry him inside, but a feeble shake of head and hand stayed him. The frailty wrenched his heart.
Tian Danho pressed on with effort. “This old grandfather just wants you happy. Venture into the world, find a good woman, savor a simple life. Remember only that you're Qi Arts blood—and cherish our memory... Ah... Great nature calls me.”
The hand Tian Ailang clasped went limp.
Tian Danho's face shone with utter peace.
“G-Grandfather... Grandfather!”
At last, Tian Ailang's tears broke free.
* * *
In the Shin Gang's Million Great Mountains, within the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Heavenly Demon Great Hall.
At the hall's deepest, loftiest throne sat the Heavenly Demon, draped in red silk embroidered with a golden dragon.
“Demon Brain. What of those brats the imperial fossils mentioned?”
“Kill Demon and the Kill Demon Squad were dispatched, my lord.”
“Kill Demon himself?”
“Yes—he griped about mere children, but he gets results.”
“Fair enough. Capricious as he is, missions stick. They'll have them soon. Demon Brain, I'll be in the Heavenly Demon Cave—summon me when Kill Demon returns.”
“By your command!”